When in England
by Luelabelles
Summary: Sam and Dean have arrived on the English Coast to track down a magical weapon. A weapon that has been guarded for many years. On their journey, Dean's mind is on holiday mode and one particular woman. A British woman who might not be all that she seems. *Rated M - strong possibility of bad language and smut is promised*
1. Chapter 1

The British sun pounded hard on Dean's face as he gazed over the Cornwall coast. Seagulls swooped calling over the gentle crashing of the clear waves.

Sam approached Dean with two steaming paper cups.

'What you eating? Sam scorned, handing him a drink.

Dean's smug smile curled. 'Cornish pasty.' His brow raised with a slight bob of his head.

'How can you be fucking hungry? We just got here and whenever Cas transports me out of thin air, I feel sick to my core.'

'I dunno.' Dean shrugged taking another mouthful. 'It's good though, I mean, what's not to like? It's meat in a pie.' He rolled his eyes back savouring the goodness.

Sam shook his head.

'What?' Dean asked with his mouth full.

'Nothing.'

'Well, when in Rome…' Dean said then took a sip from his drink. He immediately spat it out. 'What's the hell is this?

Sam smirked. 'English tea… like you said, when in Rome.'

Dean scowled wiping his mouth. 'So, you got any leads?'

'Yeah, a guy called Frank Cole. He'll be in that pub later tonight.' Sam pointed at an old timber-framed building on the edge of the beach. A giant anchor sat outside it and big blue letters on the wall spelled out "The Mermaid."

'Pub. I like the sound of that.' Dean perked up.

'We're not on holiday, we're on a job.'

'Calm down will ya, but we might as well enjoy the pleasantries this job has to offer while we're here.'

As Dean bit into his pasty, a shapely woman jogged towards him. Her dark hair pulled back into a loose bun, her firm breasts bounced in rhythm to her jaunt in a black cleavage ripped AC/DC shirt. Dean paused admiring her. She was unaware of his attention happily jogging past him listening loudly to Metallica on her headphones. Her usual morning run invigorated her, flushing out the previous night's booze. Dean gazed on turning his head as she passed him, paying attention to her curvaceous behind. He nudged Sam's chest with the back of his hand.

'Dean!' Sam snapped.

Dean looked back at Sam, swallowing the rest his food. 'We can have a little fun, can't we?'

Deans attention waded back to the girl who had now stopped and begun stretching.

'Bendy.' Dean exaggerated his one word.

'We haven't got time for this, Dean.'

Dean pretended not to hear Sam while he arched his neck to the side watching her bend over in tight frayed cut jean shorts, a single red bandana rag hanging from one back pocket. She curved her back up stretching her arms above her head, as she done so her shirt raised showing her firm stomach and her breasts naturally pushed up. Dean growled a little.

'Dean-'

'Shh, look. What's she gonna do with that rag?'

'What?' Sam said.

Dean bit the salted air on his lip as the woman pulled out the bandana patting away her own salted sweat, firstly from her brow then her heaving bosoms.

'Hmmm,' Dean groaned, 'what I wouldn't give to be that red-rag right now.

'Dean, for God's sake, will you give it a rest!'

'Arghh! Fine.' Dean pulled away from his gaze. 'But, you owe me.'

'Where's Castiel?' Sam asked.

'I sent him to get me an ice-cream.'

'You did what?'

'I'm joking, Jesus Sam, you need to relax a little. He had something else to attend to.'

'But we need his help here, we need help to find the sword.'

'Now, you see, I don't quite get this. Excalibur is a myth, a legend. King Arthur wasn't real.'

'You're talking to me about what is real and not real. We're the Winchesters, none of that applies to us.'

Dean's attention is taken again as the dark raven haired girl sparks her just as dark eyes to him as she walks by.

'Did you see that?' Dean asked Sam. 'I'm in, I'm totally in.'

'Dean, no!' Sam pulls at Dean's arm.

'You spoil all my fun… but I tell you now, I'm having a good few drinks tonight.'


	2. Chapter 2

Sam and Dean enter the packed-out pub, a band blare out some heavy tunes and scantily clad dressed women dance provocatively around the bar.

'We're in for a really good night, Sammy,' Dean said clapping his hands together, eyeing up the talent.

'Do I have to remind you again. We're working.'

'Oh, shush your mouth. I'll get the drinks in. Pint?'

The band changes song to a roaring belter. The female singer screams out 'Weak as I am…'

Dean's head perks up bobbing. 'Tune!' he said as he backs away in a little shuffle to the bar. Sam rolls his eyes following his brother trying not to get hit on by women suggestively rubbing up against him.

Two pints are laid down in front of the brothers. Dean chinks glasses with Sam. 'Cheers, Sammy. Come on, let your hair down a little.'

Sam begrudgingly obliges. 'Cheers.'

'Man, that chick's got some lungs on her,' Dean said trying to stretch his neck towards the singer.

As Dean gulps at his pint, Sam elbows him in the ribs. 'Hey, ain't that the girl from this morning?'

Dean chokes and splutters on his pint. 'Fuck me.' Dean takes a closer look, then prays upwards thanking God. In a flash, he looks back to his brother with puppy dog eyes.

'Fine,' Sam said, 'I'll find this Frank guy and you go chat up the hot singer.'

'Thank you, Sammy. You're the man.

The band finishes to an uproar of applause and wolf whistles. 'Thank you,' The singer rasps, 'we'll be back in five.'

Dean nudges Sam away. 'How do I look? Nah, forget that, I know I look good. Go on, piss off.'

Sam walks away leaving Dean perched at the bar. The black-haired girl strides over and Dean edges his way nearer until a chancer takes his place trying to hit on her.

'So, what time to you finish, love?' he asks her.

'Not interested mate,' she replies trying to get the barman's attention.

'Come on sweetheart, don't be like that.' The guy pervs her up and down.

'I told you, no. Now fuck off will ya.' She ignores his advances and reaches over the bar for a bottle of water growing impatient with the barman.

The barman nods at her to help herself. 'Cheers Lou!' she shouts.

As she leaned over the bar the guy grabs at her arse. By the time she turns around to confront him, Dean locks the guys arm twisted behind his back.

'Now, that's no way to behave in front of a lady, is it?' Dean growls.

The man winces with pain, trying to free himself.

The singer glares at Dean. 'I can handle myself, thank you.'

'As you wish,' Dean said releasing the groper.

She grabs a fistful of the man's hair, thumping him in the gut and then another across his jaw, sprawling him across the bar knocking over the drinks that laid there. Lou, the barman nods over a couple of heavies that then assist the beaten man from the pub.

'I suppose I should thank you,' she said to Dean unimpressed.

'No need, but you could replace my drink you spilled.'

She looked up to him, this time with a slight smirk chewing on the bottom of the red painted lip. When her eyes laid into his, she felt something that paused her breathing for a moment.

'Sure.' Her eyes sparkled then shouted to Lou, 'Get this guy-'

'Dean,' he interrupted.

'Get this _Dean_ a drink.'

'What are you having Dean?' Lou asked.

'Whatever she's having,' Dean said without tearing his gaze from her.

Lou looks to the girl and she nods back, he knows her usual.

'I don't have time to chit-chat. I've got a set to finish'

'We don't have to talk, we can just drink.' Dean takes a seat at the bar as Lou sets out the drinks in front of them.

'Well, Cheers…' she said.

'Dean,' he replied to remind her his name. Albeit a touch heartbroken that he wasn't that memorable to her.

She shrugged her bare arm and took the pint to her lips. In one fell swoop she downed it, Dean looked on aghast, his mouth part open frozen to his glass, He then settled his pint watching her.

After her last few gulps, she landed the empty on the bar then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, partly smudging her lipstick.

'Thirsty?' Dean asked.

'Always.'

She then picked up the shot glass and necked back the whiskey chaser. This drink, Dean joined her. She winked at him when they finished and without another word she sauntered back to start her next set.

Dean let out a silent sigh, head on tilt as he watched walk away.

'I think you've got your work cut out for you with that one.' Sam laid his hand on Deans shoulder.

'God, I certainly hope so.' Dean shook his head then looked to Sam. 'Did you see all that? I mean, wow! Right?'

Sam nodded as Dean glanced back bewildered.

'So, did you have any luck finding out who this Frank someone is?' Dean asked.

'Frank Cole, you mean? And no, nothing.'

'Are you looking for Frankie?' Lou the barman piped in.

'Yeah,' Sam replied, 'do you know where we can find him?'

'Frankie's not a he,' Lou said, jolting his head towards Deans crush.

Dean smiled at Sam. 'Who said you can't mix work with pleasure.'


End file.
